Space Channel 95
by Hyak
Summary: A fresh new take on the series, featuring tons of inside jokes and references. Can an emo, a goth, the devil, and a perverted priest save the day? Based on Space Channel 5 Part 2, you've never seen it like this before. Seriously. Very inappropriate.


**Space Channel 9.5**

DISCLAIMER: I wish I owned Space Channel 5. I don't. And I especially wished I owned Space Michael. Once again, I don't. So don't accuse me of anything!

DISCLAIMER 2: This story is basically a loose parady of Space Channel 5 Part 2. The events of this story are loosely based on the game. Basically, it's my twist with some of my original and/or characters based on the personas of others. Those personas belong to those people and not to me. I don't think there's actually any original characters in this (ones which I have made up), but if there are, they belong to me, Hyak.

DISCLAIMER 3: This fic is composed almost entirely of inside jokes with people I know. Don't blame me if you're like, "Well this is a parody but I don't get it". I'll try to make it also so that anybody could pick this up and read it.

DISCLAIMER 4: Viewer discretion advised. Really. Not suitable for children.

The giant robot banana leaned forward in front of the emo and the goth. It floated up above the platform they were standing in and flew around around the circular room. A hot man standing on a suspending platform does the "Purge Dance" - he puts his hands behind his head and wiggles his body all around and does the pelvic thrust. Dramatic music plays and the emo wonders where she went wrong to get herself in such a situation as this.

She flips her hair back from in front of her right eye in a state of shock. That banana was surely going to kill them in a few moments. President Twain was kidnapped and being used as the power source of the banana. There was no use... she remembers all the joy, angst, and silliness of her life - all to be wasted on this one moment. She tries again to remember how she got here. And then she does indeed. "When I was hired by Space Channel 9.5!"

Report 1: Dumb Humans and Smart Hotties

Chapter 1: Brain of the Woods

_P CONTROL! OHH! _

AH! That alarm is so loud! And I was having a nice dream about -

_SEXY MOTHERBEEPER!_

I really gotta change that; I know there's like eight-year old kids next door who can probably hear my alarm. I'm a light sleeper, you know? Well, anyway, I guess I'll get up out of bed now. Man, I hate sleeping alone. So lonely. I usually get so many requests.

"Good morning, Annie Moh."

Go fart yourself. I hate that robot, I'm like Will Smith. So anyway, I got up out of my bed and went over to my nice kitchen to make my breakfast: delicious spaghetti in a can by Chef Boyarde. Yum! I took the can, opened it, and put it in the microwave. I went to my living room and looked out of my huge window down to the city streets below. I hate the city. I have no idea why I live here. The city's called "Big City". I always wondered what the "Big" part stands for. I know several people who are "Big" - but a city? Unless it was the sewer system...

_POOM POOM!_

Ah, that'd be my phone ringing. I wonder who'd call in this hour at around eleven am? Don't people have any common courtesy anymore?!

"Hello, butthole." I love answering like that.

"Hi, is this Annie Moh?" The voice on the other end sounded like a hot young male.

"Ohhh yes, baby..." Maybe flirting with him will get 'im to come over.

"Er... we were recently told about you by your lovely job application, and for some reason my boss wants to hire you."

"And what was wrong with my application?"

"I'll show when you come over here."

"Who are you?" I submitted so many job applications everyone's been calling me lately. I need money so I can get outta this place.

"My name's Elijah -"

"Wow, that's so sexy." What? It really was!

"Uh, thanks. So, we're located on 1428 Elm Street. Just so you know, we have the PERFECT job for you here at Space Channel 9.5."

I gulped. Space Channel 9.5 is like my LEAST favorite TV channel. Let me explain. The news people are so boring, they drool, they're bald, they're just disturbin'!

They don't even report the news right, they just drink coffee, and tell each jokes and they think they're all hot when they're really, like, not.

Speaking of which, one time I went into the studios...

It was a dark and stormy night. I was wearing my really cool Adamo Ruggiero rain jacket. It was just like "Cry: Part 2". So it's all dramatic, right, so I take out a huge flaming chainsaw and throw it into the window of the studio of Space Channel 9.5. The whole thing sets on fire. I laugh in my Freddy Krueger voice and do cartwheels even though I can't do cartwheels. So I cartwheeled myself into the flaming building by accident. Then, a really hot guy named Michael swooped down from above wearing a Batman costume. He rescued me, and we've been husband and wife ever since. Even though I have, like, about twenty other husbands he doesn't know about. I'm a streetwalker.

So anyway, he totally didn't want to marry me, because he had a wife and kids, but I forced him by kissing him inside of a church. All of the imaginary friends and the voices were there. It was great. Michael has livened up to me ever since. He even lives in my futuristic floating apartment. I still don't get why he was wearing a Batman costume though. It's like, Batman's Bruce Wayne, Michael, you're not him. But I think it comforts him. And excites him.

"Um, Mrs. Moh, are you still there?" Elijah asked. I turned around and looked at the time. It's been about five minutes I dazed off thinking about Batman and his sexy spandex outfit.

"Sorry, dude, I'm still here."

"Well, are you interested for the job?"  
"Can I be a news reporter? I have a great idea: Annie Moh's Swingin' Report Show! It'll be great, and much better than those boring reporters you already have."  
"Come over here, and then we can… talk," I heard his tongue lick the phone. "Come over at the newly rebuilt studios."

One day I had an idea to scan a bunch of classified ads in the newspaper section. The entire page was filled up with things like, "Annie Moh looking for work!"

Man, I know how to work alright. XD

So I went out on a quest to find this girl. Oh, I haven't introduced myself, have I? Name's Rebel. Tyler Rebel. I'm just a little country fella' just looking to make a big splash. So I went all around Big City. So later that day I just tried calling multiple complaint departments to complain how I couldn't find Annie Moh. And that's how I found her.

"What." The person who answered the phone was doing a shocking deep voice.

"Good evening, Clarice - er, I mean, Annie Moh." Damn, I gotta stop doing Anthony Hopkins by accident all the time!

"And who might this butthole be, noob?" said the voice on the other line.

So there I was, arriving on the scene of 1428 Elm Street. Hmm, that rings a bell. A frickin' bell. Oh well. I turn myself on.

There was, like, a bunch of police at the scene. They all turned and stared as I walked my sexy body and swung my butt around the corner and into the studios.

Man, I felt like a woman. So I banged my way into the buildin' where I was greeted by a semi-hot guy with blue eyes and a brown jacket.

"Hello, Annie. I'm Elijah." Not as hot as a I thought, but whatever. He'll do.

"So, Elijah, why'd you call me over? Had... something to say... ?" I did my voice that turns on most people. Then, to add the effect, I lifted up my eyebrows.

"Well, yes, follow me and then we'll talk." He turned and started to walk. I looked at him and he had a small butt. It was, like, a little tush, not big but still sexy, and I couldn't take my eyes from him as we walked through the entire business building. We turned corners and I saw how the back of his legs and butt worked together to turn his body. Ahem... sorry if I'm distrubin' the male viewers, but the female ones know what I'm talking about. Work it, Elijah!

Eventually we reached a place that was all like phone ringing and bored people sitting at computer desks. Elijah led me to a chair with no one sitting on it and he turned back to face me, his hand signaling for me to sit.

"Uh, what?" I was confused. Wasn't he going to let me be a reporter, like I've always wanted and dreamed about? I really could turn this station around and make it interesting to watch. I'd even be better than Space Channel 5 or 42.

"This will be your desk. 'Case you haven't realized, Moh, this is the complaint department..."

"O-M-G. You actually want me to sit here on my butt all day and take the millions of calls of people complaining about your dumb show?"

"Er, yeah. You don't have to take the application." But, I did kinda need it. I'm only, like, nine and a half million dollars in debt for my floating aprtment and talking alarm clock.

"Uh... fine, butthole. You know what? I don't think you're sexy anymore." I gave him a face.

"Ha!" Elijah turned his head back and laughed. "What you think doesn't make it true. So you want the job or not?"

"I guess I'm going to have to get it. When's my promotion?"

"Not for a while."

"Fart you."

You should hear the calls I get for this frickin' studio. Nobody's complaining about the newspeople like I thought they would. Instead, it's all boring things like, "You put an apostraphe and an "S" at the end of Chris which it shouldn't go". BAH! But then I got a call like no other.

"What." I love answering in that deep voice, it usually scares half the people.

"Good evening, Clarice - er, I mean, Aninie Moh." It was another hot-sounding guy. Only when he said the first few letters he sounded like some cannibal from a horror movie.

"And who might this butthole be, noob?"

"Only the hottest Rebel in Big City." Hmm, sounds pretty sexy so far. So then I said:

"Oh, and I'm a hot emo. Listen to my hair, Mr. Rebel." I put my bangs in front of the phone. In case you haven't noticed, I have weird emo hair that's like, in front of my right eye.

"Ooh, and I hear it alright. In fact, I wanna hear a bit more from you. Come over my mansion at, say, 9:30... tonight?"

"Oh ho, Tyler! Now you're talkin' - I'd be happy to come over your house. Just a question: what will we do?

"Ha ha, well, tonight, you'll be the star... and I'll be the big dipper."


End file.
